


some trashy outdated valdemar smut because i was a stan for like two weeks

by rookhan



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Biting, Edgeplay, Overstimulation, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Body Play, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:55:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26580994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rookhan/pseuds/rookhan
Summary: amab valdemar and afab reader fuck in julian's room on his desk for big XTRA kinky pointsthere's no purpose to this, im just a hoetagged non con because consent isn't immediately established, reader still wants that valdick tho
Relationships: Apprentice/Valdemar (The Arcana), Valdemar (The Arcana)/Reader, Valdemar (The Arcana)/You
Comments: 10
Kudos: 130





	some trashy outdated valdemar smut because i was a stan for like two weeks

**Author's Note:**

> read tags, if it squicks go now pls for your own sanity

"Apprentice, I can't possibly imagine what's so fascinating in there and I - oh?" 

Valdemar had caught you cradling one of Julian's old coats. The fabric of the jacket was tattered and blood stained but you held it to your chest with the fierceness of a bird who cradled her dead chick. 

"Looking through Doctor no. 69's possessions thoroughly, hm?" 

Valdemar walked behind you and closed the gap between you so quickly you didn't have time to squirm away. You jumped when their cold hands landed on your shoulders, and squeezed them with their finger tips, like a massage therapist secretly angry at their client. 

Valdemar held all their tension in their lethal, poised, shiny leather fingers. 

"Tell me..."

Another unceremonious squeeze followed that made you bite the inside of your mouth to hide your discomfort.

"Do you miss Doctor Devorak?" 

If it were anyone else, the tone of their question might've even been considered comforting but with Valdemar it was always mind games. They squeezed your shoulders again, pinching and kneading until the knots of tension in them felt like they worsened.

"I miss Julian," you replied firmly. The fingers stopped their taunting prodding and Valdemar seemed genuinely intrigued that a person could care for anyone besides themself.

"Oh?" 

Their cool breath fanned across your cheek, and goosebumps prickled up the sides of your neck.

"Not Doctor Devorak," you continued. "Julian needs to put that aspect of his past behind him. He's not Doctor Devorak anymore and he'd never have done this." 

"And you're so sure?" Valdemar crooned. "Your unending faith in the doctor is nauseatingly endearing." 

You tried to shrug out of the Quaestor's grip but it tightened like a serpent's, vice-like as it attempted to constrict the air from its prey. You could hear your own breathing, loud and clear in the shabby, dimly lit room as they leaned over your shoulder and peered at some of the left over notes. 

"Useless doodles, but I suppose one must have some entertainment when down with the plague," they murmured. 

"I'd like to move on with the tour, Quaestor!"

You tried to address them formally but you couldn't help the way your voice wavered from their intense scrutiny. It felt as though the Quaestor was visually dissecting you and it was no different from the poor souls who'd been subjected to it on the vivisection tables.

"Certainly," they replied but their smile was feral, showing all their sharp knife-like teeth as they leant over. 

"But not before I show you... the multiple usages for this desk."

You blinked and glanced back at the Quaestor, your head spinning at the implications of their statement. Was the Quaestor - no, they couldn't be... 

They wouldn't, would they? 

You felt as though you were drowning in a feverish waking dream, squashed between the Quaestor's long hard body, and the rickety edge of Julian's desk as they idly stroked your upper arm with their gloved finger.

"I thought it was to write," 

Your voice came out shaky and small.

You started to tremble but you dared not to look at them again, for fear their smile would intensify.

"Enlighten me on its other uses, Quaestor?" 

You thought they'd make a small joke, anything to ease your discomfort but your question was met by a brief unbearable silence.

"Silly magician!" 

Valdemar laughed in your ear, chuckling at you like an adult bemused by a child's stupid antics.

"It means I can do this..."

They pushed you forward and your face hit the desk roughly, your skull filling with a dull ring as you tried to process what had happened. 

"Valdemar, what're you-" 

You tried to stand but their hands held you against the desk with a power you could not hope to best. You mustered a little magic but for some reason, it felt as though your source of magic had petered out into a dim light. You barely brought it to your finger tips before it winked out of existence and your strength vanished. You released a sluggish groan as Valdemar bore down on you with their weight. 

"Foolish little duckling..." Valdemar whispered. 

They ran their hand down your back, patting it clinically in a very innappropriate facsimile of a doctor checking their patient for discomfort. You wiggled as their hands patted down your legs, and wondered if you obeyed, Valdemar would have their fun and let you go. Regardless, as their cool hands worked their way back up your thighs, warmth coalesced between them. 

"I always do thorough check ups," 

Their hands retreated and you thought they might've had their fill of intimidating you. You did not expect to find yourself abruptly spun, your nose mere inches from the Quaestor's. 

"I'm going to peel you apart, little magician. Excruciatingly slow..." 

They walked their fingers up your chest as your breath quickened. 

"And then I'm going to sew you back up together," they finished, their voice so low their words were almost indiscernible.

"Try not to be too loud," they added, smoothing their hands over your shoulders with their pristine gloves. "We wouldn't want any poor unsuspecting person stumbling down here, would we?" 

You slowly nodded, hypnotised by their red eyed gaze. Their strange eyes rooted you to the spot as they stepped back. 

"Now, it's only fair I do a closer examination, isn't it?" 

You knew the question was rhetorical but your throat dried when you realised how painfully aroused you were from their silly words. Perhaps it was the stress of Julian's incaceration or perhaps you'd been unaware you'd taken a fancy to the Quaestor but your fear faded into a strange arousal, as though someone had thrust a pouch of aphrodisiac plants into your face. 

The room was heady with the smell of moss, lavender and damp wood but you had little care for it all as the Quaestor unbuttoned your robes. They did so slowly, giving you ample opportunity to run if you wished it or refuse to engage in their play but you were in no hurry to leave after their caresses. 

"I... I appear to be sick, Quaestor..."

You spread your legs slightly as you settled onto Julian's desk and Valdemar stepped between them, a keen glint in their eye as they regarded you. 

"If only I could open that pretty little head of yours and see what you are thinking, dear magician..."

You shivered slightly from their words and laid your hands on their robed chest, feeling as though you were touching a lethal predator that was as beautiful as it was deadly and tempestuous.

They tilted their head, observing you quietly. Their spindly fingers still lingered on your waist, prodding and poking growing harsher until they grinned whenever you winced. 

"I think this external examination has come to a close," they said, quietly but there was something deadly in their tone. "Why don't we do an internal examination? I do like to be sure before I discharge my patients." 

They glanced up at you and you flushed. 

"I would like to be certain that I am okay, Quaestor." 

"Excellent," they smiled again in that same disconcerting manner, but you knew it was mostly harmless. It was unlikely the Quaestor was actively attempting to be malicious. 

"Quickly, disrobe!" they ordered.

You slid off your jacket, and the mask Valdemar had given you, methodically folding and placing them on the desk. You could see that your appreciation for the plague gear had earned their approval. 

The moment you sat mostly bare, they tilted your chin up, and inspected your teeth, their fingers digging into your gums. Their cursory touches, combined with the erotic tension behind the gestures made your body confused. Was it possible to grow aroused from something as mundane as a tooth check? 

Your mind wandered again.

The Quaestor played with your tongue, pinching and caressing it, and you thought you might gag when they finally retracted their fingers. 

You looked at their mouth, wondering if you could kiss it and they noticed, brimming with self satisfaction and smugness. 

"If the patient can stop squirming," they said. "The doctor shall give rewards." 

Their fingers trailed down to your collarbone before they disappeared completely. Your body brimmed with excitement as they considered you with their frightfully attentive gaze. Although their red eyes were focused on your face, they also appeared vacant. 

You could almost imagine the cogs turning in their cunning head. 

You fought not to react as they suddenly flicked their fingers over your nipples, and instantly regretted discarding your heavy undershirt as a warmth grew between your legs. 

You wondered how long it had been since they'd been acquainted with a human body. 

They flicked a little harder and you bit the inside of your mouth. Your strained silence was filled by your erratic heartbeat as they observed your face, checking keenly for any signs of reaction. Their flicks became intermittent and quick until you couldn't predict them, only shuddering with anticipation. 

"Tsk, tsk, such a disappointment," their fingers danced up to your throat, squeezing slightly before tracing lines across it. 

"But you've been soooo good, my dear apprentice." 

They tilted up your feverish face with their cool fingers and your stomach clenched as they finally, mercifully closed their mouth over yours. You groaned into it openly, but before you could taste their lips they pulled away and grinned. 

"I think I've been... thorough enough with you, apprentice," 

You stomach dropped as they made a flippant gesture and to your mighty displeasure, walked towards the door as though nothing had conspired.

"We can proceed," they said.

Although they lingered by the door, the glint in their eyes suggested they had no intention of opening it. Their fingers drifted over the lock, caressing it idly as they slowly curled their hand around the handle. 

"N-no!" 

How dare they leave you unsatisfied! 

Your untouched body burned for them as they craned their head over their shoulder. 

"No?" they repeated. 

Their smile grew more feral, their lips thinning into dark grey lines as they swivelled around to look at you. They inspected you for a moment, with the same keenness they looked upon the red beetles with. Then they slowly walked towards you until they loomed over you like an ominous white vulture. 

Their pupils gradually dilated as they took something out of their pocket and unravelled a piece of clear silk. 

"I was planning to wear this to the masquerade," they started idly. "I think it'd look much better in your mouth," 

"What?" you gasped. You barely had a moment to react as their nimble, thin fingers wrapped the cloth around your head and bound your mouth. 

"I'll make you squirm, my little apprentice." Their voice was little more than an icy whisper against the shell of your hot ear, and warmth sparked straight down to your clenched thighs. 

You moaned into the cloth as they parted your legs, and kissed down your stomach, making it tense and flip as they reached the apex of your thighs. 

"Poor little magician, left so terribly untended to. Oh..." 

They leaned forward, their breath fanning against the fabric that covered your sensitive flesh. 

"That just won't do," they hissed. 

You bucked readily when their mouth closed on your inner thighs, biting the sensitive skin until it grew numb with pain. Pleasure and pain seemed to meld as one, as they kissed and licked the exterior of your sensitive core until you thought you'd crumble if they didn't divest you of your clothing. Pleasure made you tense, unable to speak as they finally, finally, began tugging your trousers down before kneeling again. 

There was no indication that they were excited by what was unfolding apart from their swollen pupils and the keen smile on their face. 

"Have I experimented enough...?" They asked curiously. You knew they were attempting to wind you up as they circled your core with their gloved fingers. They intentionally avoided the aching swollen bead of pleasure that pressed through the seam of your knickers. 

"Unfortunately, this flimsy thing is ruining my fun," they said. "I hope they aren't your favourite, dear apprentice." 

Before you could react, they cut the seam apart with a scalpel, and resumed their position. 

You flinched but to your relief they put the scalpel down on the desk and you thrust it away before they could find another use for it. 

Their breath was cool, almost burning from it's iciness as they inhaled the scent of your fluids. The pleasure in their expression was carefully veiled but they seemed mesmerised, as they analysed your open body with intense scrutiny. 

Your hips bucked, but they dug their nails into your thighs warningly, for moving without their permission. 

When they were certain you were still, they nibbled on your thighs again, leaving deep purple marks which made them smile with satisfaction. 

Your breath and body shook in an indomitable storm of desire as they finally, flicked their tongue against the hardened droplet of flesh between your folds. Their tongue was cool against your molten skin and you shuddered, throwing your head back as they nipped, and sucked your sensitive outer lips. 

"Oh... oh..." 

You'd only been so loud a handful of times, but Valdemar's skillful touch reduced you to nonsensical garbling as you chased your pleasure and right when you threatened to fall off of the peak, they stood, and it fell away. You groaned exhaustedly, your body shuddering in the aftermath of their torture. 

"Are you going to beg, dear apprentice?" 

When they spoke their lips barely brushed your mouth and you leaned forward, yearning to feel them. Before you could capture their delectable lips they shifted out of your reach.

"Do you want me to make it all better? Satiate this... unbearable ache?" they asked, smiling. 

They stood, eye to eye with you, as they circled your core before plunging one finger in to the hilt. You gasped. Your mouth formed their name but no sound came out. The strange angle was enough to make you wince, but you were far more ready for their rough onslaught than you expected. 

The friction was unbearable, particularly when coupled with the stiff, clinical thrusting of their fingers. Your body was tight around their digit, and it took a few breaths for you to relax allowing it to sink deeper until it caressed a groove within the canal, pleasure sparking beneath their fingertip. 

Valdemar's finger rubbed against sensitive unsatisfied places within you that made your arms tighten around them. 

"What would Doctor Devorak think, hm?" Valdemar purred in your ear as they twisted their fingers, rubbing against spots on your inner walls that made the edges of your vision whiten. "Seeing his little magician like this, filthy, plagued by desire?"

Your body jerked as they shoved another digit inside your body, but you were wet and their shining black fingers faced little resistance. You felt a little embarrassed by the loud noises coming from the source of your friction, and how easily they managed to enter you. It didn't seem as though they minded your submissiveness or your wantonness. You could feel part of them pressing against your leg, but contact with it didn't seem to illicit the same reaction. Whatever it was, it appeared to be something that could be willed rather than caused. 

They crooned words of extremely lewd encouragement in your ear, delightedly preying upon your shame and humiliation until your hips began to mimic the rhythm of their fingers. 

"Ah, ah, ah," they whispered chidingly.

They pulled out, leaving you aching in their absence, and caressed your folds with their finger tips. You shuddered wordlessly as they brought the moisture from your core up to your little ball of flesh, and kneaded it gently. 

Your pleas for more were muffled against the silk gag around your lips and smiling patronisingly, they jerked it off of your face. 

"Valdemar, please," 

You took the opportunity to beg immediately. They'd driven you to the precipice of pleasure twice and now you were desperate to touch them. Your hands, unbuttoned the top half of their clinical attire, seeking their skin, but they stepped back and tilted their head sharply. 

"I'm the one in charge, little magician. I don't think...a little thing like you would want to overstep their boundaries, would you?' Valdemar asked. Their tone was soft but you could not ignore the underlying threat in their voice. 

You shook your head, and placed your hands back down on the desk, tensing with anticipation as they neared your centre again. The lower half of your body brushed against them in the slightest of caresses and you bucked, feeling them prominently through their suit. 

"Valdemar, please, please," you tried to summon a tear or two to your eye and they gathered it on their finger tip, smiling maliciously. 

"Have I broken you yet, little magician?" 

Your tear finally fell, burning your cheek. 

"Well then, no more tears," they murmured. "Hm?" 

Their tone was almost affectionate and you appreciated that they didn't push you any further now that you felt overwhelmed. 

But they derived some pleasure from seeing you reduced to a snivelling state of desperation and you could see it in their smiling face. 

They bit the side of your throat, next to your jugular and the skin immediately purpled as their lips descended to your collarbone. Finally, without letting you touch them, they unbuttoned the lower half of their suit and relieved whatever was trapped behind the cloth. 

You felt it brush against your thighs, hard and strangely warm, although the heat that it emitted was an echo of the intensity of what had flourished between your legs. 

They reached down and their face contorted into disdain when they touched themselves, as though such a motion was tedious or inconvenient. 

You tried to look down but they forced you to look at them as they slowly entered you. When you winced, they pressed their face against your own lightly, allowing you to embrace them in an uncharacteristically gentle manner. 

Your vision whitened, and you dug your fingers into their shoulders, as they inched into your passage, torturously slow. To their credit, they remained unbelievably composed, observing your face keenly as they filled your body. 

You couldn't see anything, but the fullness in your body intensified until your head hit the wall giving them ample opportunity to leave a few more marks on your throat. Just when you thought you'd pass out from the excruciating pleasure of the sensation they grasped your throat, righting it on your shoulders until you were looking up into their face. 

"Don't fall asleep on me now," they said, chidingly, but their voice was a little unsteady as they inhaled, stroking the vein on the side of your throat. 

To your surprise, they looked mildly bewildered, and even frustrated you'd elicited an intense physical reaction from them. 

"Magician," there was an edge of panic creeping into their voice, as though they were losing their superior position. "You..." 

Without your volition, you walls tensed around them and your hands seized their shoulders. They trembled faintly, in your arms, their lips pursed together. 

Then without missing a beat, they started moving. 

You stiffened, your fingers digging into their slender body. 

They stared at you for a moment, and then pressed a kiss to your mouth, maintaining your gaze as their tongue darted out to taste your lips. You tasted blood and realised they'd bit their own tongue to suppress their reaction. The metallic taste made you cringe but their slightly furrowed brows and the prospect of them suffering as much as you were was somewhat arousing. 

It seemed, for a moment, no words could be spoken that could describe the sensation of unity.

You felt it was unnaturally intense, as though something delightfully wrong was pervading you, and your head fell back as their fingers tightened around your throat. Your swollen lips brushed against their mouth, their breath cool and reminiscent of a strange tea Nadia had served that morning. 

The tinge of pressure around your neck, meant you were short of air and mildly choked, but the confusion intensified your pleasure tenfold. 

"Valdemar..." you panted their name against their headdress, your body aching as they moved in and out of you at a steady leisure pace. You could barely see the place where your bodies met, just making out a slither of their flesh that briefly left your body before bottoming out inside you again. 

They seized your shoulders in a vice grip, immobilising you as they exhaled quickly through their nose. You wanted to touch them, you were desperate for skin contact, and pressed your lips to their own quickly. Perhaps it was a moment of weakness, but they obliged, nipping and sucking your lips, before parting them. Their tongue expertly explored your mouth, leaving you more breathless than before, as they bit your lower lip, drawing it away from your gums with their teeth. 

"Poor little magician," Valdemar crooned. "You've wet Doctor Devorak's desk, and destroyed his precious plague notes. Imagine how angry he'll be." 

"Oh! Quaestor!" You held onto them like a drowning man holds onto a raft at sea, as they filled you again in faster, sharp gestures. Finally, mercifully, their fingers slipped between your bodies and caressed your untouched skin, kneading the droplet of flesh between their cool fingers. The contrast of their temperature made another wave of pleasure threaten to overtake you. 

Their face remained intense, scrutinising you as you unravelled. They seemed gleeful, another feral grin materialising on their face as their gestures quickened. You tightened, and their smile broke at the edges, their brow furrowing slightly. 

"What will you do, dear apprentice?" Their fingers slowed again, but they continued rolling their hips until they sunk deeper. You wanted to scream, but your words choked in your throat as they squeezed your neck. 

"Will you beg for mercy?" they asked. You teetered on the edge of pleasure but the precipice faded back again into numbness, making you weep breathlessly. 

"Quaestor," your words were garbled, at the intensity of the feelings that sprung within you as they changed the angle on their hips. "Please, oh please..." 

You had begun begging in earnest but it appeared they were not entirely satisfied. They pulled out abruptly, leaving a distinct stinging sensation from their callousness and thrust you away from them so that you could not see their face. 

"Turn around, my dear."

You obeyed, shuddering as you rested your hands on Julian's desk your back exposed for the Quaestor. 

"This view is... magnificent," they spoke. "You are a fine specimen, dear apprentice. Now, widen your legs or I'll have to conclude this session," 

"Oh no, please," you seized their hand and they followed you until their chest bumped against your back. You desperately attempted to realign your bodies, and still Valdemar's unnatural composure barely had a chink in it as they firmly pressed a gloved hand to your lower back and stopped you from moving. When you finally ceased your wiggling, they adjusted themselves and slowly inched forward again. 

You trembled, toes curling as a sensation reminiscent of the one prior returned as though you were being entered for the first time again by the Quaestor.

They were strangely ribbed, brushing against undisturbed parts of your body and igniting a familiar heat that pooled far quicker than before. 

With one hand along the column of your throat, they fucked you earnestly, their other hand, pinching the base of your nub to take the edge off of your pleasure with a little pain. With the Quaestor's speed picking up, and their noiseless breaths fanning across your ear from the exertion, you were unable to stop the tide that was coming. As it mounted, they pinched you hard and suddenly and you jerked, the pain forcing your pleasure to recede abruptly. 

You cried again, unable to stand it, as they kissed and licked your cheeks, decorating your face with nips and bites. 

"I can't," you breathed. "I can't, I can't, I-" 

You pulsed faintly with no pleasure, your throat closing up, and your eyes burning with humiliation and embarrassment. 

"Hush my dear apprentice," 

Valdemar pressed a kiss to your lips, parting them with their tongue as you managed to stop your trembling. 

"You're doing so well," they whispered and somehow that compliment was enough to keep you going. 

Your salty tears melded between your lips as Valdemar caressed your cheek with uncharacteristic tenderness. They kissed you a few times, their other hand interlocking with your own upon the desk, their movements softened by your vulnerability. 

Their lips were cold and smooth as marble or clay, and gentle as silk. Their hand stroked your abdomen in circles, like a parent comforting their child, and you began to relax, your tears lessening. When they'd kissed your cheeks and face dry, they slowly started moving again, their nose pressed to the back of your head as they exhaled quietly. 

"Valdemar, are you..." your question tapered off into a soft moan as they began caressing the swollen nub of flesh between your folds with the moisture gathered on their fingers. 

It was oversensitive and sore from their rubbing but you held on to the little sparks of pleasure by grasping their small strings and tethering them together until more appeared. 

"My dear little apprentice, so...marvelously perfect for me," they smiled against your skin as they brushed the hair from your neck and inhaled the scent of your soft flesh. "This is my favourite smell. What is it...? it's delicious." 

"A-Ambrosia," you fumbled to answer, terrified their movements would cease but they only exhaled against your neck, moving languidly. "It's in... Asra's store!" you gasped out. 

"Hmm..."

They released a small sound like they were listening but they appeared to have gone entirely into introspection, as they stared at your intertwined hands on Julian's desk. Their other continued caressing you, much more gently, until the pain ebbed away and your folds swelled again. 

You could not tell if they were rising towards the peak of pleasure like you were. Their composure had hardly broken, little more that a small sheen on their brow and their rhythmn had not faltered. 

Your breaths grew louder and Valdemar curled over you, completely silent aside from the slap of your wet flesh and mixing fluids. You could feel their belly tensing against your back arrhythmically, and glimpsed their face behind you on the faded mirror on Julian's desk. Their face was undisturbed, like a body of water that lacked ripples, but their hand was crushing your own, and they'd bit the corner of their mouth with their fangs so fiercely, the skin had gone completely white beneath their teeth. 

Feeling slightly braver upon noticing this, you lifted your foot and quietly crossed one of your ankles over the other and observed their face, noticing it visibly flinch into a confused frown when they felt you suddenly grow tighter. 

Their breaths grew a little heavier, barely a noticeable difference than prior but enough to make you shudder as you began to feel their sighs against your neck, coupling in an awkward but gentle rhythmn with your moans. 

Pleasure began to grow, wrapping around your body like a hot, heavy chain. Each movement, made that chain tighten until you could barely focus from the wave of heat that descended over you. 

You sank lower onto your elbows, your face against the cool wood of the desk as you panted, unable to keep yourself upright on your trembling wrists. 

The Quaestor was flexible enough to follow behind you, their lithe body stretched like a satisfied cat's until it resembled the angle of a square, their front completely pressed to your back as they continued moving. 

Valdemar's palms skimmed your shaking forearms before closing over your hands that were stretched out in front of you on the desk. Their grip was so tight your knuckles grew numb and their weight on your back made you breathless, pinned beneath them to the point of immobility as they forced you towards the edge of your pleasure. 

Their silence said enough. If they felt the same it wasn't hard to conclude that they couldn't put words together. 

Their hips kept grinding your nub against the desk, and they quickly placed their palm there for added friction. 

"Has the apprentice learned her lesson, hm?" Valdemar's voice came up next to your ear, audibly shaky without the mask to muffle it. The hands clamped around your fingers tightened briefly as you nodded. 

"And what if-" 

They closed their mouth abruptly taking a moment to focus themselves as you bucked against them.

"And what if my dear lost magician comes wandering down to these dark tunnels again, hm? Will I have to teach her another lesson?" 

"Oh yes, Quaestor Valdemar!" 

Your body quaked as their movements quickened, discarding your slow languid pace. 

"How should I punish the dear apprentice next time? Perhaps I'll call Doctor Devorak in for a personal observation, hm?" 

"Ohhh, please, don't -" your voice broke as their fingers worked your pleasure centre harder forcing it to build quickly and painfully. 

"Perhaps you'll become my new masquerade exhibit, hm?" They nipped your ear with their sharp teeth, and this time the pain only intensified the pleasure. You could hardly move or breathe, squashed to utter subjugation as they thrust into you viciously, barely lifting their slender hips. You could feel their own hands shaking as they huffed next to your ear, clamping your mouth shut with their hand to focus on their own pleasure.

"Such a nuisance, dear apprentice," they purred, half irritated, half aroused, a tone that was unfamiliar to you up until this point. You moaned against their palm your breath condensing into hot steam upon their glove. 

"And you can't ever be quiet, dear apprentice," they did not stutter but their sentence sounded as though part of it had been said completely separately from the other. Their fingers stuffed your mouth suddenly and you clenched, blissfully filled from both ends. Your eyes rolled back into your head and you quaked, rattling Julian's rickety old desk as you tasted the remnants of yourself on Valdemar's fingers. 

"Wouldn't it be a terrible shame if your dear Doctor Devorak found out...how easily I broke his favourite apprentice?" they asked. 

You jerked, almost fighting them in the unbearable combination of pleasure and humiliation. 

"All it took was one little flick," they accompanied their teasing statement with a small pinch against the apex of your thighs and you spiralled over the edge of pleasure, drooling onto the table blissfully as their fingers filled your throat and you sagged against the desk. 

They applied just the right pressure again, shifting their angle and you screamed as your world whitened, a kaleidoscope of colours bursting behind your eyelids as you continued writhing. A struggle for breath and sense ensued as the Quaestor continued thrusting, wringing unbearable quantities of pleasure from your prickling body as you rose up onto your tip toes. 

You were so distracted by your dwindling pleasure that remained intense enough to make you delirious, you did not feel the Quaestor tense slightly, squeezing your hand before they receded from your body noiselessly. They'd adjusted their clothes and completely tucked themselves back into a state of tidiness by the time you recovered. You blinked blearily, in both fear and disbelief. 

"I believe that concludes our tour," Valdemar was back to a state of unbelievable composure, their fingers pressed together in front of their chest as they observed you patiently. 

"You-" you shook your head in disbelief. "I - this was - it was wrong,"

They tilted their head to one side as you quickly realigned your clothes, but you looked pathetically dishevelled next to the Quaestor and they laughed at your weak attempts to adjust yourself. 

Gathering what was left of your pride and dignity you raced out of the room, their mocking laughter following you up the dark steps of the dungeons.

"Try not to get lost again, my dear magician," they called, but you heard their voice like it was right behind you, as the pulsing in between your legs receded, and guilt veered into your heart.


End file.
